Broken
by my.inner.slytherin
Summary: 2 tributes entered in the games. Katsa is Snow's assassin trained to punish the citizens of Panem. Even as a member of 12 the reaping didn't seem to be a concern. Fire is haunted by her past and her family's secret ability. Her biggest worry was what the district would think when she didn't volunteer. Together they ignite the rebellion. AU after Catching Fire Graceling Fire Xover
1. Katsa

Chapter One- Katsa POV

**AN: This is a crossover with the books Graceling and Fire. It uses the characters from those books in the Hunger Games universe. Basically you will notice that Katsa has a supernatural ability for combat, and Po is able to hear people's thoughts about or aimed at himself. He can also see everything in a different way where distance doesn't really matter and he can see things behind him however that misses details such as colour. In the next chapter you will be introduced to Fire who is able to enter people's minds to hear what they are thinking as well as alter thoughts and memories, this also includes mind control. I'm almost certain that as long as you know that the story will make sense to someone that has never read those books. Also I have switched around the timelines so that Katniss and Peeta won the 73****rd**** hunger games and it is now the 74****th**** hunger games.**

**I do not own Graceling or Hunger Games. Thank you for reading.**

_The house looked abandoned. Maybe house was a bit of an over exaggeration, the unpainted wooden boards that made up the walls had cracks between them where the wind whistled through. Maybe I had mistaken the scream for something else. But then, the unmistakable sound of suppressed sobs._

_I think I should help, but maybe I am trying to prove something. Prove that I am not the monster that the capitol made me. Whatever the reason, I take a few steps closer to the shelter. There isn't any door at the entrance; Just a piece of ripped and worn cloth, flapping in the wind. I rip the fabric away. Inside the shack a horror unfolds, only made more terrifying by its reality._

_A young black haired girl cowers in the corner as a coal-blackened man stands over a woman lying curled up, bleeding on the ground. As the man notices me he delivers a fierce kick to the back of the woman's neck. She goes limp and the little girl lets out a more audible sob._

_It's a horrible thing, but I'm used to this. The woman is obviously dead, but the girl still has time. Before the man can make another move I shove the heel of my hand forcefully up towards his nose. It is a practiced move; I can calculate exactly how much force I need to make it a killing blow or a maiming blow. He drops to the ground to join the woman in death._

_I am a monster, but I will be a monster with good intentions._

_I know it was the right decision when the little girl looks up at me, not with fear or disgust, but with gratitude. This was not a one-time occurrence._

_The little girl opened her mouth._

"Katsa!"

How did she know my name, I had never seen her before? Maybe she had heard of me though. District 12 wasn't a very big place, gossip spreads fast. But if she had heard the rumours, then why wasn't she afraid?

She said my name again, louder this time.

"Katsa! Katsa, wake up!"

Then I jolted awake, my instincts forced me to be instantly alert. The knife I kept under my pillow was in my hand before I realised that I had been having a nightmare. I relaxed as I saw where I was. Light streamed in through the cracks between the walls of our small shack. Not the same shack as in my nightmare, but very similar. Po had already left, probably bartering for our breakfast. The little girl was older now, but still young, 12 years old.

"Bitterblue, what's the matter?"

Usually I was left to sleep until I woke up on my own; then again usually I don't have nightmares that make me sleep past my set wake up time. I guess it's true that it's hard to wake up from a nightmare when it's real.

"The president has another mission for you, and you need to have enough time after that to get ready for the reaping."

Bitterblue just barely bit her thin bottom lip at the mention of the reaping. It was the first time that she was eligible to be picked for the "great honour" of competing in the hunger games. After years without her father's abuse that was still the only amount of weakness she would show, and only to Po or I.

Usually Bitterblue didn't reveal any emotions other than her carefully constructed mask, the fact that her mask had broken just that tiny bit told me that she was terrified. Who wouldn't be?

I pretended that I missed her small show of emotion. Acknowledging her feelings made her feel weak. It was a result of her father's treatment. Sometimes I wished I hadn't killed her father so mercifully.

"Where are the instructions?"

My face was emotionless; I had given up on showing my bitterness at the capitol's absolute control. Bitterblue and I made quite the pair, two seemingly emotionless robots having a conversation. If Po were in the room things would probably be a bit lighter, although with how he feels about my "missions" it might not have been.

In answer to my question Bitterblue handed me a thick piece of paper that was folded down the middle. It had the unmistakeable smell of blood and roses. I unfolded it, the capitol seal was clearly displayed at the top of the page, an eagle spreading its wings. Underneath the embossed image was the president's signature, I didn't doubt it was the real thing, very few people knew about my special job; this classified information would hardly be left in the hands of a secretary.

I was surprised that I had been given a mission today. Law required that I attend the reaping, at 17 years old I could still be reaped. It would probably be somebody close by, either a fellow member of district twelve, or somebody in the outskirts of eleven.

I didn't think I was able to be shocked by a mission anymore; I had punished some surprising people. But I was proved wrong by the words written on this card. Very simple yet specific orders

**Find Katniss Everdeen in the third house in victor's village.**

**Restrain Katniss and any others with her.**

**Find Primrose Everdeen, break Primrose's arm while Katniss is watching.**

**Speak only to tell Katniss that she is failing.**

Below the writing there were labelled pictures of both Everdeens. President Snow always made his orders easy to follow and without loopholes. When he first found out about my natural abilities and demanded that I become the law enforcement for some of Panem's more difficult cases. I had resisted. He had ordered me to publicly execute someone; I dragged them into the street and snapped their neck. Apparently he wanted more of a show, more blood, and more pain. After that my instructions were specific, like he was ordering around a simple minded fool. I resented that.

I hadn't resisted after that, especially after I met Po and Bitterblue. They were my greatest weaknesses, but I couldn't live without them.

Just as I finished processing what the instructions required, Po walked in. He held a loaf of bread and a small block of cheese. He looked from the piece of paper in my hand to me. My shock must have shown on my face because his smile faded just a little. As he walked in he set down our meal and hugged us both. As he held me, he whispered in my ear.

"Katsa, he can't control you, don't let him."

Of course I knew what he was talking about, but there was no way to actually accomplish this. President Snow had cameras monitoring every district and every person whom he considered a threat. There was no way to disobey. Po knew about the cameras, that is why his little message came during a hug. So why did he need to make me feel worse.

Po cringed, he had heard that one. I angrily projected my thoughts to him.

"And HOW would I escape the President exactly"

He couldn't answer, it might reveal his ability. Po was similar to me.

When I was young, 7 or 8 years old, a peacekeeper had found me. I had been living alone for a long time and was hiding inside a doorway to get out of the rain that was viciously pounding down. He had seen me huddling there, and approached my hiding place. He had knelt down to my level. His eyes were gleaming dangerously, but his words were gentle and sweet. It was a terrifying mixture. I remember he asked me if I wanted to come to his house. He said it was warm there, but then his hand moved to my thigh.

Without thinking I had punched him in the face. The force of the blow was enough that it broke his neck. The next day the President himself appeared to "offer" me training and a job. I was useless to him until I had learned enough not to outright kill people. He brought me back to the capitol. I trained in the training centre, formally used during the hunger games. I stayed in twelve's rooms and ate more food than I could have imagined.

The training started with me trying out the weapons. I mastered them easily with the help of instructors who came in daily. Soon I started fighting people. For a year my only break from training was when the tributes from the games used the facility.

On my last day of training, I remember Snow watching from behind a protective force field. That fight was a particularly taxing exercise. I was unarmed against 6 peacekeepers in full uniform, firing to kill. My supernatural fighting abilities let me anticipate where a bullet would hit, almost before the trigger was pulled. With almost superhuman speed I was able to dodge the bullets that were continually fired in my direction. Every movement was carefully planned, bringing me closer to my opponents

Once I was close enough the real fighting began. For this drill I had been ordered to injure, but not kill the peacekeepers. I dropped to the floor and tripped the first peacekeeper just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet intended for me hit one of his comrades in the shoulder. Their moment of shock allowed me to deliver a quick jab to their temples, knocking them out. The remaining peacekeepers tried to shoot while I was close to the ground. Springing up to my feet, I dodged just in time. I moved behind the closest one and at the same time as he pulled the trigger, I knocked his hand just enough so that it hit another's foot. Those two were quickly unconscious. Seeing that I only used their weapons against them, the last two peacekeepers holstered their guns. In hand to hand combat they were almost too easy to beat. Their uniform made them clumsy, and they couldn't move fast enough to dodge or block my constant attacks.

When I was done I looked up to see Snow watching me with a calculating eye. That day I also had my first mission. Afterwards I no longer lived in the capitol, I didn't have any extra food at the end of a meal and I certainly didn't have a house. I was just a tool to be used and then put back in district twelve until my next use.

That's why they couldn't find out about Po. Po could read any thoughts that were about him. At first this had terrified me, a person who could tell when I was lying. See through my mask and know what I was feeling even when I couldn't. But Po's abilities had limits. He couldn't just see any of my deepest darkest secrets, it had to concern him. He also could "see" things in relation to where he was. Almost like eyes on the back of his head, but without colour. He could see what was behind a wall and could tell which people meant him harm. They were useful abilities, but they could be useful to Snow also.

There wasn't any conversation while I changed into the President-approved, expensive, skin tight black outfit that was reserved for my jobs.

Before I left I kissed Po and told him that we probably wouldn't see each other until the reaping. I forced myself to sound cheerful to ease Bitterblue's worry.

"We can have a celebration after the reaping. I've saved some money for sweets."

My smile probably looked more like a grimace, but I felt like I had reason to not be smiling. Though I would buy some "we're not dying yet" sweets after the reaping.

I left the shack without any further goodbyes. I knew where victor's village was, everybody did. It was the richest part of district 12, with some of the tallest buildings. I could see some of the roofs from where I was standing.

Walking over to the village didn't take enough time. I pushed past the gate slowly, thinking about how this is the first time in a while now that I had really dreaded a mission.

Everyone knew who Katniss and Primrose were. Last year I had stood beside Katniss when she volunteered for Primrose. We were the same age. We used to be in the same class at school, before I was taken out of school by the president. The teachers would always mix up our names. Katsa and Katniss, we even had the same skin tone and hair colour, though my eyes were much more exotic than her gray eyes. I had had one eye green and one eye blue for as long as I could remember.

Now I had to punish her by hurting her sister. If people liked Katniss, then they were in love with little Primrose Everdeen. She was such a sweet girl, growing up with nothing had taught her to be humble, so now that she was rich she didn't gloat. Primrose was kind to people, but anyone who had met her could tell you that she had a hidden knowledge behind her innocent blue eyes.

And now I was going to barge into her house, for no reason other than to cause her pain.

As I approached the door, I systematically removed all emotion from my features and tried to make my mind empty. I could almost pretend that I wasn't angry at the president for ordering this. I could almost pretend that guilt wasn't gnawing away at me. Then I opened the door.

Primrose sat on Katniss' lap on the living room couch. Primrose had tears running down her face and she looked terrified. For a moment I panicked, thinking that she knew why I was here. Then I realised she was probably worried she would be reaped again. This day probably brought back horrible memories for her, the memory of acknowledging her imminent death.

Katniss was singing softly to her little sister. I had only ever heard such beautiful music while watching this same girl sing to a dying child on live television.

Suddenly I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't hurt these people who had already suffered enough. The rope in my hand to use for binding Katniss seemed to be mocking me; the weight in my hand reminding me that I couldn't just turn around and leave. But I had a plan.

I slammed the door shut to get Katniss' attention. She immediately reached for a knife hidden in her boot. I walked calmly to stand in front of the pair. Katniss had moved to a standing position with Primrose behind her.

I moved fast, knee coming up to knock the knife out of her hand following a feinted punch towards her face. As I had hoped my strategy had worked on the first try, knife skidding across the room. Katniss was used to fighting with a bow; she was poorly trained in close combat. But she wasn't done struggling. Katniss hadn't won the hunger games for nothing.

She punched my stomach with surprising power. I didn't even flinch, just grabbed the hand as it moved back towards her, and spun her around in her moment of confusion. As I tied the rope around her wrists I whispered in her ear.

"I am going to pretend to break Prim's arm."

Once the rope was tied, I grabbed Primrose, who was attempting to get help. I murmured a similar warning in her ear and hoped that she was a good actor. Once Primrose was still I turned back to Katniss to fulfill the last requirement of this mission.

"The President wishes you to know that you are failing."

I brought my elbow down onto Primrose's elbow, I made it look like I was holding her arm with her elbow pointing upwards, but in reality the inside of her arm was what I hit and her arm bent naturally, not in the awkward way it appeared to have been forced.

Luckily Primrose had already been crying and it was easy for her to start crying again. She screamed at the same time Katniss shouted her name, which also happened to be when I brought my elbow down. The combined actions of the three of us should reduce the suspicions of my faking a job.

I wouldn't have made this ludicrous plan if I didn't think it would work. The person watching this video most likely had a poor view, or we would have seen the camera, I knew Katniss could act from what I had seen in the games, Primrose already was crying and their mother was a doctor who could put a false bandage on Primroses arm. So why did I feel as if I had just made this huge decision that changed everything?

But I didn't need to think about this anymore. The job had gone quickly. I could probably see Bitterblue and Po before the reaping. I left the house, not bothering to close the door or untie Katniss; just putting as much distance as I could between us.

When I got back to the shack, I found that Po and Bitterblue had already left for the reaping. Snow had already had one of his minions bring the money I had earned from my last mission. I breathed a sigh of relief. He had thought the mission was a success. I put the money under a loose floorboard where we kept anything of value.

I took my long dark hair out of the messy bun that I had used to keep it out of my face during the mission. There would be no elaborate hair do in preparation for the reaping, though I had to change out of my work outfit.

The stretchy black clothing soon joined the money under my feet and I changed into a plain grey blouse and my nicest pair of black pants. I didn't want to stand out, but it was the unofficial rule that you had to wear nice clothes to the reaping. These clothes _were_ about as close to dressed up as I wanted to be. After living in the capitol for a year I had decided that fashion was not my thing.

My sturdy yet flexible boots and loose hair would not change because there was a chance I would fight to the death on television. If I go to the hunger games there is no way they are putting me in a colourful dress to parade me around. I probably wouldn't die if I was in the games, but that didn't mean I was going to pretend it was a celebration like those stuck up capitol fools.

Po always finds those kinds of rants ironic because I always insisted on dressing up Bitterblue. I imagined Bitterblue in her girly knee length blue dress. It brought out her pale blue eyes that were sometimes hidden beneath her straight black hair. I hope she wore that dress, she almost never did. She always had been forced to act like an adult, so to her wearing a dress like that would be childish. It might be hypocritical but I felt like she needed to stop putting up masks around people and regain her missed childhood. Some things were just much easier said than done.

I should have stopped thinking, try to desensitize myself so that I didn't feel anything for the next boy and girl sent off to their deaths. But I couldn't. the day had been too eventful; I can only hope that this year's reaping is uneventful. Somehow even thinking those thoughts made me feel horrible. Today will change people's lives forever, and all I can do is hope I'm not affected.

As I'd been thinking I had started walking into the town square, I hadn't look out of place walking like a zombie, not paying attention to the world around me. Most of the kids I pass don't seem to be paying attention to what's going on around them. I wonder what would happen if I waved my hand in front of their face.

It looked eerie, all these children who looked to be marching to their deaths. But that wasn't true, only two of them would be.

Now it was my turn to have my blood taken. I hardly noticed the pinch as I searched the crowd for Bitterblue and Po. If we were in any other district I probably wouldn't have found them, but here in twelve there weren't many people who made an easy living and for those who didn't it was hard to survive until reaping age. And there they were, searching for me as I had been searching for them. I waved once as I walked to my roped-off age group section.

Po smiled at me as I took my place beside the other 17 year old girls. I gave a small smile back. I was worried for him. There were only two people I had ever loved, Bitterblue…and Po. Bitterblue was like my little sister, or even like a daughter, but Po… he was something more.

"Attention."

I was instantly alert, almost going so far as to jumping at the voice that had broken my thoughts. It was just Effie; trying to get the district's attention.

The only thing that set this year apart from the others is that when Effie called the mentors up to the stage, Peeta and Katniss walked up to the stage. Haymitch didn't get to trip all over Effie this year. Instead, Panem's newest celebrities looked uneasily down at the crowd, wondering which of us would die under their care.

Then it was time for the Mayor's speech. It was the same speech as last year. With the same video. The only one who paid any attention was Effie, in her colourful capitol outfit with a matching wig. This year her outfit was entirely gold, she had been obsessing over the colour since the last games when district twelve had actually won. I guessed it was because of the mockingjay pin that Katniss wore.

All too soon the video was over and Effie was marching over towards the glass orbs. She was cheery as always, standing between the two bowls of names.

"Well than, ladies first!"

Saying that you could hear a pin drop would have been an understatement. I could hear the rapid breathing of more than a few people, others didn't breath at all. I almost told them that suffocating themselves would only cause death faster than being reaped.

Effie dropped her hand gracefully into the first orb. For a moment I understood Effie's constant enthusiasm. She had to convince herself that it was all a game. Who could face the reality that every year they picked two children to gruesomely die while their family watched them on a screen far away from them.

But in a moment that sympathy vanished.

"Bitterblue….I'm sorry but there is no last name…" Effie giggled nervously, confusion written on her face.

I turned to my baby sister, the girl I had found in that bloody shack years ago. I had never understood Katniss' sacrifice before. I had admired it, but never understood it. Until now.

Bitterblue was wearing the blue dress that made her look like a little girl, but with her stony face you couldn't tell how young she really was. She was looking right at me.

"Don't do it Katsa. I don't need your help, there is no childhood for me to lose."

Her voice echoed clear through the silence, nobody so much as moved.

Except for me.

This wasn't a desperate rush like Katniss had.

As Bitterblue looked down at me from the stage I stepped forward. I spoke in a loud whisper but in the silence that seemed to engulf me it was a shout.

"And that is why you are staying here. Because I won't let them send you to die when you haven't even learned to live."

Then louder.

"I volunteer as tribute."

The world had stopped for that single moment, but as always it started moving again, all too fast.

As I took Bitterblue's place, she glared at me. I looked away from her, not wanting to see the unmasked hatred that Bitterblue could show so convincingly. But when I looked away from her, I caught Katniss' eye. She recognised me from our earlier encounter. A look of shock crossed her face before she hid it. I guess we all have our masks.

Effie let out a nervous giggle.

"A volunteer two years in a row! And what is your name?"

I looked over the crowd. Effie shoved the microphone in my face.

"Katsa"

Another giggle escaped Effie.

"Do people not have last names anymore?"

Now I was angry, which was probably dangerous.

"Only if you never met your parents."

That shut her up. That's good, giggling wouldn't have been good for her health. But now she needed to pick a male tribute.

I continued looking over my district's head. I didn't need any admiration, any pity. I just looked straight ahead. From the stage you can just barely see between the shops to the seam. My shack was somewhere over there. I might not ever return.

"Greening Grandemalion"

That snapped me out of my daze. I turned to Effie my face blank.

"Po"

She looked at me, confused.

"His name is Po."

And there he was, making his way up to the stage slowly. I threw my idea at him. He didn't nod his head, but I knew he'd heard me.

We stood so close together, but not touching. Both of us were looking over the crowd's head, neither of us thinking. Thinking was too painful.

Effie wasn't very cheerful anymore. I seemed to have that effect on people.

"Everybody put your hands together for district twelve's tributes... Po and Katsa!"

This was when we were supposed to shake hands, but neither of us held out our hands for the other to take. We wrapped our arms around each other and kissed. We kissed before district twelve, before the cameras, before Panem. Everybody was watching, but for a moment it was just us.

And everything was fine.


	2. Fire

Chapter 2- Fire POV

**AN. So this is Fire's POV, I don't own Hunger Games or Fire. Also, I made up her last name; the book doesn't give her a last name.**

My fist crashed into the metallic surface of my bedroom mirror. A million reflective shards shattered and fell to the ground. I looked at them, the sharp edges reflecting crimson blood. I ignored my injured hand in favor of inspecting this beautiful disaster.

I could see pieces of myself in the ruined fixture. Brilliant green eyes stared back at me. The colour was as unnatural as it was captivating.

My skin was as flawless as always, a healthy rose colour bringing out my cheek bones.

Full lips looked as if I had applied meticulous layers of colour. Of course, it was all too natural.

My clothes were not reflected fully as one in the small pieces of shrapnel, only tiny areas visible. I could see a ripped and torn edge, the fabric slowly coming undone and becoming little more than threads. One of the large stains was visible, darker than the brown fabric around it. The worn out pants and shirt were the dullest things being reflected back at me. I always wore the clothing of a beggar, but it had yet to take away from my beauty. I often wondered if I was made more stunning by the ugly costume.

What really caught my eye were the strands of red orange and pink. The colours flowed and mixed together. When I moved, they danced. My hair is more beautiful and deadly than a fire, what I was named for. It is an unnatural colour that comes naturally. I am not natural.

I am a monster.

In the early hours of morning I glided through my apartment. The stars provided light while I cleaned up the remains of my mirror. I kept myself from looking at it. A mirror will never do any good.

I wrapped a clean white bandage around my knuckles. People might assume I had hit a fellow career student, in a way I had hit myself.

Maybe I wished that I had really been punched. It was silly, I was always being injured and it changed nothing. It would be painful and leave a mark, but people's perception of me would not change. I would still be unnaturally and amazingly beautiful.

I still found myself thinking that maybe a black eye would deform my face and make me ugly.

I wasn't hungry but I made myself breakfast. The process of cooking food overcame all other thoughts. I made a huge breakfast because I didn't feel like coming back to reality. The moon watched over me as I prepared a feast.

The sun was just rising when I finished. I grabbed my fiddle and climbed the stairs to the roof. The flat rooftop was bare, except for the door I had come through.

I was able to see above all of the other buildings. The rich part of the city spread out before me, expensive apartment buildings. Large houses with magnificent patios and sparkling pools.

Just beyond that was a more vicious part of town. Small houses with peeling paint slowly transitioned to homemade shelters. Down there it was the survival of the fittest. Peacekeepers often patrolled the rough streets, picking on the less fortunate people who couldn't fight back.

But if you overlooked the human development, that was when the view was truly amazing. Long grasses grew in the sandy earth, before slowly giving way to long white beaches. The ocean seemed to be alive, sometimes it calmly washed over the sand but other times, like then, it crashed into itself. The waves were free and freeing.

I stood on the top of the world as I removed my fiddle from its case. It was the only gift I had ever received from my father. I played a wild melody that gave voice to the ocean as my hair flew in the same winds that were stirring the water. The sun peaked over the horizon and the world was painted shades of orange and pink.

The sunrise. It was the start of a new day, a time when I could be calm while everything around me seemed to make no sense. There was no order to the world. Nothing seemed to stay unchanged or follow rules. But in the few moments when the ocean matched my hair, I could take a break from it all.

I hated my father for many reasons, and I will never understand why he named me Fire in the district of water. If I had been called Sunrise maybe I wouldn't have felt so alone.

I let a single tear fall down my face, I hadn't allowed myself to cry over my father since the day…he died. Everyone knew _of_ Cansrel. But I think I was one of the very few people who knew my father. Cansrel was the worst kind of evil, a monster with a pretty face. Like me.

I had fended for myself most of my childhood, living in an apartment funded by my father but rarely seeing him. I didn't have any friends and spent my days wandering the streets or sitting inside, watching the people around me.

As a child I was at my happiest when my father was home. Finally someone who could understand what life was like for me. I didn't realize that Cansrel was unable to understand. He couldn't sympathize with a little girl who wanted friends, a family. Cansrel did not understand why I would want a normal life.

Why would you want to be ordinary when you could be extraordinary?

But he was the only one who would talk to me as if I was a real person. I loved him because he didn't fit into the two groups that the rest of the world seemed to fall into; those who hated me and those who loved me.

In our time together he tried to help me reach my full potential.

_When I was barely four years old my father let me pick out a puppy. She was the runt of the litter and Cansrel was reluctant in letting me have her. He wanted me to have a big strong dog, a purebred that would make our neighbors envious. Reluctantly he allowed me to take "the mutt" home. _

_I named the puppy Belle, something my father had told me meant beautiful in a long forgotten language. I brought her everywhere with me. I showed my puppy the ocean and the rooftop. I showed little Belle my special places that I had always wished to share with a friend. That was the most fun I had ever had._

_One day when I was five, I left Belle in the apartment while I went to the train station to greet Cansrel. He had been away for nearly a month, but was only staying for a few days. I wanted to make the most of our time._

_When he got off the train, I could barely restrain myself from jumping up and hugging him. Cansrel didn't like it when I hugged him in public. I gave him a big smile, showing the gaps in my teeth. I enthusiastically talked the entire walk back to our apartment. I told him all about losing my teeth and my adventures with Belle. My smile faded a little when I told him about how a girl named June had called me names. He nodded as I recounted the weeks he had missed. _

_I was just about to ask about what he did in the capitol when I saw June in our apartment. The girl was a few years older than me, seven years old and was chubby with baby fat. That was probably why she was bitter towards me; I looked like a miniature adult when I was five. _

_We both froze when we saw each other, eyes locked together. When she noticed my father, her eyes widened almost comically. She shook in terror. That was when I noticed what was behind her._

_My little Belle, with glassy eyes and fur matted with blood. The first feelings to break through my initial shock were of sadness, but they were quickly overpowered by a blinding hatred. Even though I was only five years old I wanted revenge, I wanted her to feel pain for what she did._

_Suddenly I could see her mind, layers of thoughts and memories. I tore into it and was engulfed by thoughts that weren't my own. This girl was a victim of jealousy, one of the first to be driven to extremes because of me. I crushed all of her happy memories, leaving only pain and sadness._

_I drove a girl insane. It only scared me because I didn't regret it._

_When I came to my senses, Cansrel was sitting on the plush living room chair. He was leaning forward and watching me intently. June slumped to the floor, Cansrel ignored her. He looked neither confused nor disgusted. I didn't understand why he was just looking at me, it was not until years had passed that I had come to realize that Cansrel had been proud._

"_I will cancel my business in the capitol for the next week. It seems that you are ready to learn of your heritage Fire." _

_As he spoke he stood up from the chair to walk towards me. I was too confused about everything to understand that Cansrel was going to be staying longer. I just stood in the same spot and watched as he left, carrying June. _

After that day, Cansrel would visit more frequently. He was always teaching me how to break into people's minds. We worked on different techniques, such as sneaking through someone's mind without their realization, planting my own thoughts in their mind. I enjoyed the lessons, always eager to spend more time with my father.

I forced myself to overlook the reason for these lessons and the horrors that were capable with my power. But slowly, I began to doubt.

Cansrel loved to brush my hair. He had forbidden me from cutting it, so it reached past the middle of my back. He would slowly run a brush through my vibrantly coloured hair and talk to me. He told me that my hair was a reminder that I would always be different from people. He didn't understand that this made me more upset than reassured.

He wanted me to use my power to put the ungifted people in their place. They were ugly next to our radiance and their accomplishments were simple next to our power. Their rightful place was at our feet. Some days as a child, I was scared. Because some days, I agreed.

An image of my sweet puppy would force its way into its mind. I remembered the cruelty shown to me, purposely forgetting my own cruelty. That year I was even more with-drawn than before, constantly at odds with myself.

One day I would hate myself, in my mind I was a monster. The next day I would hate all of humanity, they were the monsters; I was not one of _them_, I was something more.

I shook my head trying to get rid of the memories from _Before. _Today I needed to pay attention. I made my way back to the apartment, nibbled on some of the breakfast I had made. I wasn't hungry but I knew that I had to eat.

Every reaping day the academy put on a demonstration for the district. The older and more experienced students would participate in mock duels to entertain people and kick off the betting. I had been participated in the day's festivities since I was eligible for the games. My father's position and my extra abilities forced me to be one of the top students in district 4's prestigious career academy.

Most of the district thought that I would be volunteering that year. It was my last year that I would be eligible, and I had been groomed for the role since I was a child. My father had always been disappointed, year after year, as I refused to volunteer. That year would be the first that I didn't have him pressuring me to enter the arena.

I cleaned up what was left of my breakfast, packing up the extra food to bring to the poor part of the city. Before I left, I quickly put my hair into the tightest bun I could manage, and put on a black hat. I grabbed the bag of food and locked the door behind me as I left my apartment.

I kept my head down as I walked, trying not to gain any more attention then I already did. Once I made it past all the mansions and businesses I lifted my chin a bit more. As soon as I made it a bit farther into the labyrinth of make-shift shelters and run-down shelters, I started to draw more attention.

Children came to tug at my pant legs. They recognized the hat and bag of food, and became exited at the thought of a warm breakfast. A rare smile tugged at my lips as I passed out the food to the hungry children as best I could.

I always looked forward to breakfast and dinner, the times of day when I made the trek into the rougher part of town and give the people a meal that they deserved to have. It was usually the same children who showed up at meal times, occasionally bringing a friend, or dragging their parents in from work.

That day I noticed a child drag in a young man; he looked to be my age and stayed at the back of the crowd, even as the child raced towards me. He locked eyes with her for a moment, he looked skeptical, as if I was handing out poisoned food.

I was always keeping track of the minds around me, making sure none intended violence. I focused on his mind for a second, curious about his thoughts. I barely managed to conceal my surprise when I found that his mind was protected by an impenetrable barrier.

There were very few people who I had met that hid their thoughts from my view. The odd cases where people hid their immediate thoughts from my view, it was usually people who had grown up hiding their emotions. Often maintaining a blank face unconsciously taught you to create a wall around your mind, helping to manage what emotions made it to the surface.

What was odd about his mind was that the wall had no cracks, only a person who was consciously trying to keep another out of their mind would be able to protect their mind so completely. I looked away from him, hiding my pale face. He must have known my father.

As soon as I finished handing out food I left to rush back to my apartment, I tried to convince myself that I wasn't running away from him. I hated to admit it when I was scared of something, my father taught me that fear was a weakness. He was an unknown, as long as I couldn't see into his mind I wouldn't be aware of his intentions, so it was best to avoid him.

I couldn't push the image of his face from my mind. I was a master of reading faces, everyday people looked at me with hidden jealousy or lust. But it was not often that I was looked at in disgust. There was no denying what he was feeling when he saw me, even if his emotions were shadowed. The obvious displeasure shown on his face conveyed his obvious hatred, but few would have been able to detect the underlying signs of fear that were hidden in his eyes.

I was almost relieved. Finally somebody who realized what I truly was. Deep down I would always be a monster.

I picked up my pace as I approached my apartment; I threw my empty bag and hat in the door and left just as quickly. I needed to distract myself.

I wasn't sure how far the academy was from my home, but I sprinted the whole way anyway. I needed to feel the burning of my muscles as they begged me to give them a break. I struggled to keep my breathing steady as I neared the intimidating brick building. I let my eyes wander over the neatly cut lawn and artfully trimmed hedges. Technically I had inherited the building from my father, who had started the school, but I just let everything run like it had before. Keeping up appearances was vital.

Once in the building, I slowed until I was walking quickly. I headed straight for gym four. It was the smallest gym, and my favourite. It had a mix of different equipment. Weapons in one corner along with animated dummies, weights sat in the corner, another space had a simulator for cardio workouts, you could set it for a bike ride through a forest or a jog through the capitol, lastly there were weights, both old fashioned and new.

This gym was my secret hiding place from the world. Not many bothered to venture into the less used areas of the academy. I set myself up in the middle of the room with the old fashioned weights. These weights were from before the rebellion, I had heard that the design had hardly changed at all from the models that were built before Panem.

I always preferred these to the high tech training equipment that adjusted itself to you level. There was a great feeling of pride when you pushed yourself past what the machines would have allowed. It also took a great deal of pain and determination. It was exactly what I had needed.

It didn't take long for a thin sheen of sweat to coat my body. My gloves kept my grip on the large weights, not allowing them to slip out of my grasp. I used the corner of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead, determined to continue even after I felt the gratifying burn of my muscles.

The distraction almost worked too well. A well-tanned arm reached in front of me to grab the weight that I was currently pressing. Lean muscles strained to pull the bar out from my protesting arms. I jumped up, sea green eyes staring back at me.

"What the hell Finnick? Don't sneak up on me like that!"

He looked at me for a second before bursting into laughter. I just glared at him and crossed my arms over my chest. Meanwhile the famous Finnick Odair did a fake little happy dance. Eventually he calmed down. I continued to give him my death glare.

"Fire; never in a million years has it even crossed my mind to even attempt to sneak up on you."

My glare slowly faded as I remembered that it was reaping day. Finnick's eyes lost their sparkle as he realized my train of thought. He sat down on the bench and I followed suit.

"I get to meet the girl on fire, tomorrow. It should be interesting to meet a former tribute who was almost as famous as me."

He tried to be easygoing about the whole thing, but I knew how much he dreaded his trips to the capitol.

"According to the entire district, this will be the year that I volunteer."

He looked straight ahead, eyes staring off into the distance. I almost missed when he spoke.

"We all have our masks."

I just nodded and checked my watch, trying not to put much thought into his words. The awkward silence seemed to stretch on forever before I spoke out.

"It's about time that I head over to the tournament."

Finnick jumped back up.

"Darn I forgot, that's the whole reason I came down here to find you!"

He grabbed my arm and proceeded to drag me in the general direction of the miniature stadium. I swatted the arm away.

"I can walk on my own, thank you very much."

I tried to sound stern, but a hint of a smile snuck its way onto my face. When everyday was a chore, you learned to appreciate these small moments of peace, however strained it was.

All of district four seemed to be watching us as we walked into the stadium. Our faces hardened into our carefully constructed masks as we presented ourselves to the public. Finnick waved at the crowd, even as his face was emotionless. I lifted my chin a little and settled with losing any and all emotion, making myself into a warrior. I acted how my father had taught me to, always expected to be an intimidating and untouchable figure.

As the top student, I would not be required show off by participating in every duel. I only really had to be there for the grand finally, where I would face off against the winner of the previous rounds.

The first fights had already begun, but the district had stopped watching while I entered. I wanted to tell them that they shouldn't look up to me, that I was a horrible role model for their children. I stared off into the distance, while they started to whisper about how Finnick and I had walked into the stadium together.

The other district's reapings were being broadcasted on a large screen opposite my seat. I mostly ignored them, focusing on the minds around me, trying to maintain the peace as various disputes broke out among the students as well as the citizens.

I only glanced at the screen when I sensed nearly every mind in the stadium focus on the district twelve reaping with a general surprise.

I glanced over to see the tributes kissing passionately in front of the cameras as well as the flustered escort who was obviously just as shocked.

I couldn't help but wonder if there might be real star crossed lovers that year, or if they were just better actors than Miss. Girl on Fire.

The rest of the tournament was uneventful until it was eventually my turn. I would be facing off with a male student who was at least twice my size. Wonderful.

A referee announced that we could start. We circled each other for a couple moments while the district held their breath in suspense.

He moved first, surprising me. I guess I wasn't acting scary enough. Of course he was trained to jump into certain death situations with no hesitation. He charged forward with as much speed as his bulk would allow him, which was admittedly faster than expected, but I was much faster.

I decided to put on a show for the audience. I allowed him to hit my jaw, but manipulated him so that he would barley even touch my mouth. The audience gasped as I dramatically staggered backwards, forcing tears to my eyes.

He would never have played along with my act without my influence, it was almost funny the way he hesitated to approach me again. I did my best to pretend that I was an innocent little girl and he approached me slowly.

As soon as he was close to me my face hardened and I stood up straight. With a speed that he could never hope to match, I was behind him. I kicked at the back of his legs, surprising him and effectively knocking him to the floor. My elbow hit the front of his throat, leaving him gasping for breath. I circled around his struggling figure, darting in for swift but powerful attacks.

He continued to struggle to fight back even as I repeatedly hit him in the most painful spots.

My show was over quick, as the referee announced me as the winner. The crowd dispersed to head over to the town center for the reaping and I watched them leave.

I enjoyed that way too much.

As I left a hysterical twelve year old was torn away from her mother on the screen.

I didn't bother searching for Finnick before the reaping, I would say good bye at the train station. I lined up with every other citizen 18 years or younger. While waiting in line I saw Finnick standing with Mags, who would be taking Annie's place as a mentor. He gave me a small smile when we made eye contact. I gave a hesitant smile back and waved before moving up in line and giving my finger over to the capitol attendant to be pricked.

The roped off areas where teens waited to discover their fate were very quickly filling up. I made my way up to the "pen" reserved for 18 year old females. Most of the girls that came over after me moved around so that I was the closest to the isle way. It seemed that everybody thought that I would be volunteering. I imagined that today would be the first of many times in the future where I would surprise everyone by making a decision that the character I presented to the public would not have made.

It didn't take very long for everyone to be in their places, although to some it would have seemed like ages. The district's escort, Celia, made her way up to the stage. She, like all the other escorts, never seemed to be in her right mind. I wondered if it was a job requirement that all the escorts had to be insane, or if that came after a few years of the job.

She wobbled a little on the stairs; I grimaced when I saw the height of her heels. I swore to myself that I would never be caught dead in shoes like those. Finnick walked up to the stage next, Mags' arm linked through his. He smiled and waved at the crowd, winking at a few girls in the crowd. I didn't bother to make eye contact with him. This was not the real Finnick Odair.

The same clip was shown that we saw every year. I noticed the interest and excitement some people showed in watching the retched film, my disgust was hidden under a disguise of bored indifference.

As the film faded out Celia clapped her hands together.

"Now, onto the exciting part!"

She walked to stand in between two giant glass balls, each overflowing with names. Celia held her hands out towards the two orbs.

"Who first, shall it be the ladies first…"

Many of the girls around me let out whoops and clapped.

"…or maybe the gentlemen?"

A roar erupted from the guys standing across the aisle from me. Celia shook her finger at them, as if scolding a small child.

"Well that was not very gentlemanly. We should remember our manners. Ladies first!"

She took a couple of steps over to the orb closest to me, dramatically reaching her arm into the sea of paper slips. She picked one out and carefully, slowly unfolded it. She looked at the name on the paper and her eyes widened. She stayed silent for just another moment yet, prolonging the agony.

In a clear voice that echoed throughout the town center she announced this year's female tribute.

"Fire Kallistos!"

The capitol was going to have a hay day over this; if they didn't know who I was already, than they recognized my father's last name. I buried my shock and fear into the back of my mind. I showed the public a pleasantly surprised exterior, confidently walking up the steps to stand with Celia. She held the microphone to my face, asking if I had anything to say. I took the microphone from her and looked at my district.

"That was much easier than I thought it would be." I smiled at them all, giving a small laugh. "I didn't even need to volunteer!" This gained a small amount of chuckles from the audience. "I guess it is just my destiny to honour my district." I played my part as the happy tribute that everyone expected and handed the microphone to Celia. I smiled at the people in the audience as I completely ignored the reaping of the male tribute.

Only when I smiled at my fellow tribute and shook his hand did I recognize him as the person from breakfast with the impenetrable mind.

Shit.


End file.
